


Here We Mark the Price of Freedom - Additional Scenes

by Diamond_Raven



Series: Here We Mark the Price of Freedom [2]
Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: Angst, Depression, Domestic, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Healing, M/M, Marriage, Mental Health Issues, Past Suicide Attempt, Post-Captain America: The Winter Soldier
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-08
Updated: 2017-07-03
Packaged: 2018-09-15 21:12:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 9,372
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9257447
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Diamond_Raven/pseuds/Diamond_Raven
Summary: These are additional scenes from 'Here We Mark the Price of Freedom'. It's recommended that you've read the original story before starting with these additional scenes.





	1. Discussing Steve's Suicide Attempt

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bucky finds out about Steve's past suicide attempt and confronts Steve about it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Timeframe:** 1 year after Steve and Bucky move into their new house
> 
>  **Applicable Tags:** Past suicide attempt, suicidal thoughts, depression, mental health issues, angst
> 
>  **TRIGGER WARNING:** This chapter contains a graphic (non-gory) discussion about a past suicide attempt. The entire chapter deals exclusively with depression, suicidal thoughts and attempting suicide.
> 
> When I asked for suggestions for additional scenes in this universe, having Steve discuss his past suicide attempt with Bucky was by far the most requested scene. I resisted writing such a scene in the original story because I couldn't imagine a scenario where Steve would voluntary tell Bucky about it. However, my wheels kept turning and I know how badly you all wanted to see that scene become reality, and I finally thought up a scenario that would work.

*             *             *

Bucky turns down the dog food aisle and passes the enormous bags of regular kibble, knowing exactly where Diesel’s special gluten free food is. He recognizes the bag from a few feet away and grabs the largest size, hoisting it under one arm. He’s got the basket slung over the other arm, filled with an assortment of treats and new toys.

He gazes down into the basket with a critical eye, wondering if he should grab another rope toy….

What are the chances that Achilles will finish destroying his current rope toy tomorrow…?

Bucky sighs.

The chances are high. Very high.

He turns around and starts making his way back to the toys.

“James? James!”

He stops and turns around. There’s a man in a paramedic uniform hurrying towards him, grinning and waving.

“Ahmed! Hi! Please tell me you’re here on break and that nobody’s dying around here.”

Ahmed lets out a laugh. “Don’t worry, we’re between calls. I’m just here to pick up some cat food.”

Once Ahmed reaches him, Bucky adjusts the basket in his grip and they shake hands. “How you doing?”

There had been a terrible apartment fire several months ago, which thankfully Steve hadn’t been involved in, but Ahmed had been part of the team who had responded. There had been seven families in the building when it went up in flames. Four of the families had gotten out unscathed, but the other three hadn’t been so lucky. The firefighters had pulled everybody out, but all three families died on scene.

Five children and four adults died that night.

Ahmed had been having a difficult time dealing with the event and Steve had become a source of support for him. Bucky knows they’ve spent a lot of time on the phone together and Steve had been the one to encourage Ahmed to take a few weeks off work to deal with his wellbeing.

He’d only returned two weeks ago, and according to Steve’s reports, Ahmed was doing really well.

And his bright smile seems to support that.

“I’m doing really well, man. Really well. I can’t tell you how amazing Steve has been. You’ve got a good guy there.”

Bucky smiles. “He’s alright.”

Ahmed laughs. “You’re hilarious. Anyway, Rogers, yeah, he’s—I mean, I wouldn’t be back at work if it weren’t for him. You know, it’s hard enough finding people who really understand—” He stops and leans in closer. “Depression,” he whispers.

Bucky makes a sympathetic face. “Yeah, I know. It’s tough dealing with it, and it’s real hard if you don’t got people around you who understand or at least try to understand.”

Ahmed nods frantically. “Absolutely. But, man, I mean, it’s one thing to talk about the…the…what goes on in your head, but when it gets real bad, you know? That’s what nobody ever wants talk about. When somebody’s actually thinking about…you know…thinking about… _that_. Nobody wants to talk about that.”

Bucky blinks a few times. It seems like Ahmed is talking about something more than depression, but Bucky isn’t really following.

“Sorry, thinking about what?”

Ahmed leans in closer and lowers his voice even further. “You know. _That_. Thinking about, you know, doing something…to yourself. For real. In a…permanent way. Most people aren’t comfortable talking about that, even if they’re comfortable talking about everything else, you know? But Steve—he’s a tough one. Not just talking about…thinking those things…but what happened when he…tried. You know? I—It’s such a…dark subject and I really, really appreciate that Steve is willing to talk about it. I told my wife and we’ve been working on things and it’s been a lot better.”

Bucky’s been having a hard time following the conversation, but as soon as the meaning of “he tried” crystallizes, he’s suddenly numb.

He’s barely managing to breathe and somehow he isn’t dropping the dog food or the basket, but he feels like he’s about to fall over.

Ahmed is smiling at him, looking very pleased with himself.

Bucky manages to put what he hopes is an encouraging smile on his face. “That’s—that’s great, Ahmed. I’m so happy you’re doing better. It’s—I’m so glad Steve could help you.”

They exchange some more pleasantries, none of which really register for Bucky.

He’s aware of Ahmed leaving, then his feet are taking him to the cash register. He pays for his stuff and heads outside.

His feet manage to find the van and he gets himself and his purchases into the front seat. Diesel is lounging on the passenger seat and greets him with slobbering kisses.

Bucky barely notices. “Hi, buddy. Hi. I’m—I think—shit.”

He takes a deep breath.

He’s being ridiculous. He probably misunderstood what Ahmed was trying to say. There’s no way Steve would keep something like that from him. _No way_.

Definitely.

Definitely…?

Definitely.

…

He slams a fist on the steering wheel. “Stop it, Barnes. You’re gonna get your head back on straight, you’re gonna get yourself home, and as soon as Rogers gets home, we’ll get this straightened out.”

His decision has the desired effect of pressing pause on the entire situation. Still, the drive home is a blur, as is getting out of the van and putting all the stuff away.

He makes his way to the living room and collapses on the large couch, hands automatically turning on the television.

When Diesel lumbers into the room and nudges his knee with his nose, Bucky bends down to help lift him onto the towel covered part of the couch. Diesel lets out a little whine, prompting Bucky to get up and retrieve stuffed monkey from Diesel’s bed, which joins Diesel on the couch.

Then they sit there, waiting for Steve.

Bucky forces himself to stay focused on the television, following the plot of whatever is currently playing and not allowing himself to dwell on his conversation with Ahmed.

_“He tried.”_

Steve tried.

Steve tried to…

Bucky can’t even finish the thought because it makes him queasy.

Finally, he hears the hum of the garage door opening. A few minutes later, another hum, then a door opening and clicking shut. He hears Steve dropping his shoes and backpack on the floor.

“Buck?”

Here we go. “In...in the living room.”

He keeps his eyes glued on the television, hoping he’ll manage to lead into the conversation somewhat tactfully.

Steve comes into the room and stops to say hi to Diesel, whose tail starts thumping happily. “Hi, buddy! Hi! How are my favourite boys, huh?”

Then Steve turns his attention to Bucky, who’s managed to direct a strained smile Steve’s way. Steve gives him a kiss on the cheek, but he’s frowning as soon as he pulls back.

“What’s wrong?”

Bucky stares at him.

There’s no way, _no way_ , that Steve would have tried…that.

And there’s no way he wouldn’t have told him.

“I—I ran into Ahmed at the pet store.”

Steve’s still frowning, searching Bucky’s face as he tries to figure out what bad news is waiting around the corner. “Is he okay?”

“Yeah. Yeah, he’s fine. Doing really well. He…” Bucky lets out a breath and rubs a hand over his face, trying to get himself out of this numbness that’s paralyzed his thoughts. “He said something that was a bit…weird.”

“Okay.” Steve kneels down on the floor and folds his arms over Bucky’s knees. “What did he say?”

“He—he said he’s really grateful that you’ve been helping him deal with everything since the fire. He—he talked about how hard it is to talk about depression.”

Steve nods slowly. “Yeah. You know how hard it is. You’re the one who makes me talk about it when I don’t want to.”

“Yeah. That’s—that’s not the weird part. He also—he also said—or at least I _think_ he said—that he’s been thinking about…hurting himself. And that he talked to you about it. And that you—you told him—you—he—shit—”

Steve has frozen, his confused frown disappearing and being replaced by a guarded expression. “What—what he did say that I told him?”

Bucky clenches his jaw and focuses on Diesel chewing on stuffed monkey’s right paw. It’s easier than looking at Steve.

“He—he said you told him about…trying…that.”

Steve slowly leans back from him, removing his arms from Bucky’s knees. “I—I think you misunderstood—”

Bucky’s gaze flies from Diesel to Steve. “ _Did I_? Did I misunderstand? Cause that’s what I’ve been sitting here thinking—going back and forth. Cause you didn’t…you _couldn’t_ …Jesus, Steve, tell me you didn’t try to kill yourself!”

Steve manages to meet Bucky’s eyes for a split second before his gaze is sliding off to the floor.

That answers Bucky’s question.

He stares at Steve, feeling like he’s sitting in front of a stranger.

“You— _when_? _When_?!”

Steve’s gaze darts back to him. “A long time ago, Buck. Jesus, not…not recently. I would have told you if things got that bad again—”

Suddenly Bucky can’t sit on the couch anymore.

He gets up, steps around Steve and starts pacing.

Jesus.

 _Jesus Fucking Christ_.

“It—it was after I woke up. You remember the thing about the tickets?”

What?

“What tickets?”

“The—the roundabout and the U-turn—after I got my bike. Remember I told you the cops gave me tickets for breaking those rules and I didn’t know about the rules, and—” Steve makes some sort of hand gesture.

“And what?” Bucky demands.

A part of him doesn’t want to hear this.

But another part of him knows he has to hear this.

What he’ll do with the information once he has it is another question.

“And I wasn’t doing well. I told you. I was miserable. The depression was real bad and I had nobody to help me. Well—nobody who I wanted helping me. I only had the depression for company and you know how it feeds on itself and it was pulling me further and further down and I couldn’t do anything to stop it. I didn’t know how to fight it. It got to the point where I was hurting so bad and I didn’t have a single reason for sticking around. That’s when I tried.”

Bucky’s pacing again. He can see the whole thing playing out in his head: Steve, alone and sad, grieving for the people and the life he lost. Thinking everybody he loved was long dead and he was alone in a cold, strange world.

A lump clogs his throat and he desperately wishes he could go back in time and help Steve. Fuck, he was probably frozen in a lab somewhere, completely oblivious to Steve’s suffering.

He needs to know how it ended.

Well, he knows how it ended—thank _God_ —but he needs to know what happened in between.

“What—what did you do?”

Steve’s still kneeling on the floor, his hands clasped in his lap. He’s the one who’s looking at Diesel now. “Tried to hang myself in the closet. I forgot that my new body weighs so much. The bar broke and I woke up a few hours later on the floor.”

Bucky’s by the rocking chair, so he lets himself collapse into it. “You—you weren’t just trying to hurt yourself.”

Steve sighs. “No. No, I was trying to end it. Would have worked if the bar hadn’t broken.”

Bucky stares at him. Steve sounds so casual, so nonchalant about the whole thing.

“How—how the fuck can you be so calm about this?”

“I—it was a long time ago.”

“I don’t care if it was fifty years ago! You’re talking about it like you’re telling me about dinner!”

Steve looks shattered. “I’m so sorry, Buck.”

Bucky rubs his face with both hands, letting the prosthetic dig into his forehead. The lump in his throat is rapidly growing and he can feel tears gathering in his eyes. He seems to be alternating between rage and gut-wrenching despair.

Steve is shooting him worried looks. “I’m sorry. I’m really sorry.”

“For what?” Bucky chokes out, clenching his jaw hard. A few stray tears fall and he squeezes his eyes shut to keep the rest at bay.

“I never wanted to tell you. I didn’t wanna hurt you.”

Bucky lets out a choked laugh. “Hurt me? You were trying _not_ to hurt me? You’re an idiot, Rogers!”

“Buck, come on—”

“No! Don’t you dare try to brush this off! You kept this from me, Rogers! And—and you told Ahmed but not me!” He turns on Steve. “You told somebody who’s practically a stranger and not me!”

“Of course I told Ahmed but not you. It’s not the same thing—”

“The hell it’s not! What—you trust Ahmed more than me?”

Steve gives him an unimpressed look. “Of course not.”

“Then why him and not me?!”

“Because I knew that telling him would help him, not hurt him. Telling you would hurt you, not help you.” Steve makes a hand gesture. “Look how upset you are—”

“I have a right to be upset!” He yells.

Diesel has stopped chewing on stuffed monkey and he’s looking back and forth between them. He looks frightened.

Bucky makes an effort to get a hold of his temper. “You—you lied to me. I don’t care why you told somebody else, but you lied to me for _years,_ ” he hisses, his teeth clenched.

Steve’s jaw gets tighter and he looks unimpressed again. “Technically, I didn’t lie. I just skipped some details. Besides, don’t be a hypocrite, Buck. There are things you haven’t told me either.”

Bucky scoffs. “Like what? Me wanting to get in your pants when we were teenagers?”

Steve gives him a hard look. “Hydra. I know there are plenty of things you haven’t told me about and I respect that.”

Bucky stares at him, incredulous. The idiot seriously thinks those things are the same. “You’re a moron, Rogers! That’s not the same thing!”

“That’s exactly the same thing!”

“No! No, it isn’t, because not telling you about Hydra isn’t risking my life!”

Steve frowns at him. “Are you outta your mind? You know I’m sitting right here—alive and in one piece? Me telling you about what I did wouldn’t suddenly make me die…that’s stupid.”

Stupid. Rogers thinks he’s being stupid.

Bucky glares at him. “What’s our number one rule, Rogers?” he demands.

Steve’s answer is immediate. “Communicate.”

Bucky’s glare intensifies. He can feel that he’s not just upset—he can tell now that it’s mainly fear. He’s terrified and it’s all this idiot’s fault.

“Yay! He got it! Give the idiot a medal!”

Steve’s starting to look mad now. “What the hell are you so mad about? I promised to tell you if things get bad—we never said we had to talk about things that happened years ago. I rarely think about it anymore so who cares?”

“Who cares?!” Bucky shoves himself out of the chair and takes two steps until he’s towering over Steve, who’s still on the floor. “ _Who cares_?!”

Bucky drops to his knees, grabs Steve’s shirt and gives him a hard shake. “I care! I care, and you wanna know why? Because you promised me that you’d talk to me and you’d tell me if things got bad. So I spent years thinking we’re okay—that if you ever get to a really bad point, I don’t have to worry so much because you’d tell me and we’d deal with it. Then I find out that you did get to that point and you didn’t tell anybody—”

“I didn’t _have_ anybody to—”

“Then you kept it from me! I’m supposed to believe that you’ll tell me if you need help, but you think that protecting me is more important?”

“I—”

Bucky raises his eyebrows, daring Steve to contradict him. “Oh, I’m sorry, isn’t that _exactly_ the reason why you didn’t tell me? Because you thought you were protecting me? And hurting yourself doesn’t matter, as long as you keep me safe, isn’t that right?”

Steve’s gaze hardens. “Yes!” he hisses. “You’re always gonna be my first priority, Buck!”

Bucky glares and gives him a hard shove in the chest, enough to make Steve tumble back against the couch. “You wanna keep me safe?! You do that by keeping _yourself_ safe! Don’t you get it? If you keep something that big from me, then how am I supposed to trust that you’ll tell me if things get bad again? How am I supposed to live, knowing that I might lose you because you thought protecting me was more important than asking me for help?”

Bucky grabs Steve’s shirt again and gives him a hard shake. “It would destroy me, Steve! Don’t you get that? You think you’re protecting me, but you’d be killing me! You’re gonna use all kinds of crazy ways to justify not telling me and I’ll be left having to bury you, and I can’t do that, Rogers. I’m telling you, that’s not something I can do.”

Steve hasn’t made a move to touch Bucky or to remove the tight grip he has on his shirt. He looks devastated. “Buck, I promise I’d tell you. I do, I promise.”

The tears have started again and they’re streaming down Bucky’s face. He can’t seem to unclench his hands from Steve’s shirt to wipe them away. “How am I supposed to believe that when you didn’t tell me about this? It happened a long time ago and you’re okay talking about with Ahmed, but you still convinced yourself that telling me would hurt me and that was enough to keep it from me. When it gets real bad, and troll is giving you a real hard time, how can I trust that you’ll tell me you need help before it’s too late?” he chokes out, barely managing to get the words out.

Steve lets out a soft sigh. “Buck, I’m so sorry. Honey, I’m so sorry. I never wanted to hurt you—”

“Well you screwed that up!”

“I know. And I hate myself for that. I really, truly thought it wouldn’t matter and that all it would do was hurt you.”

“I can deal with pain, Rogers, you should know that by now. I can deal with pain, but the best medicine is having you help me. If you’re gone, you’ll have hurt me in a way that nobody can fix.”

Steve’s started crying at some point too. “I—I don’t know what to say. I promise, I promise, I _promise_ to tell you if things get bad. I know you don’t believe me, but—”

“It ain’t me that’s the problem here, Rogers! It’s you! You have to get it through your thick head that losing you would destroy me, and no amount of other pain would be worse than that. I can handle _anything else_ that you throw at me, except losing you. Especially losing you like that. Please don’t do that to me, _please_.”

Steve’s nodding. “Okay.”

Bucky glares through his tears. “Don’t ‘okay’ me like this is no big deal! I know you, Rogers! Troll can come up with all sorts of crazy things, and you’ll believe him when you think you’re protecting somebody, especially me.”

“Buck—”

“No, Rogers. Be quiet. I don’t wanna hear you right now.”

He’s suddenly very tired. He’s tired of his conversation, he’s tired of Steve’s martyr-complex and he’s tired of yelling.

He’s tired of bouncing back and forth between rage and anguish.

He doesn’t want to keep upsetting Diesel and he really needs to be away from Steve right now.

“I’m going to my room.”

He heads to his room and shuts the door shut behind him with enough force that he knows Steve heard it.

He paces for a while, anger and fear still bubbling in his chest. For the first time, he realizes how much bigger his room is than the one at the apartment. More room to pace around.

Rogers is an idiot!

A stupid, stupid, stupid idiot!

As usual, the moron puts everybody else ahead of himself and thinks he’s doing everybody a favor.

Exhaustion eventually calms him and he gets into more comfortable clothes, takes off his arm and collapses on his bed. As he lies there, he realizes he’s left his phone in the living room but he really doesn’t want to deal with clients right now anyway.

They can all go to hell, along with Steven Grant Rogers.

He lies there for a few hours, alternating between wanting to cry and wanting to punch Steve in the nose.

Occasionally he hears his phone ring and there’s the muted sound of Steve answering and having conversations.

The moron better not screw up his scheduling after everything else he’s screwed up today.

Eventually he hears the click-click of Diesel’s claws echoing on the wood floor as he lumbers down the hallway and stops at Bucky’s door. There’s a soft whine, but Bucky’s in no mood to let him in.

Footsteps come down the hallway and there’s a quiet knock.

“Buck? Do you want Deeze in there with you?”

“Yeah.” Bucky wants somebody who isn’t a moron to cuddle with, plus he owes Diesel after upsetting him with his yelling.

His bedroom door opens enough for Diesel to come wandering in, towels draped over him. Once he’s inside, the door clicks shut again.

Bucky gets out of bed and arranges the towels and Diesel on his bed. Diesel is drooling happily, staring at Bucky with big eyes. “Hey, buddy. I’m so sorry for yelling earlier. I wasn’t mad at you. I’m mad at Rogers, but not you. You’re a good boy,” he said, scratching under Diesel’s chin.

They get comfortable on the bed, Diesel wedging himself against Bucky’s side and Bucky draping his arm over him.

He dozes for a while before he’s woken up by another soft knock on the door. “Dinner’s out here if you want it. Deeze already ate.”

He waits until he hears Steve leaving, then untangles himself from the blankets and gets his dinner. He’s not really hungry, but he picks at the food for a while, shoving away Diesel when he tries to get closer to the interesting smells.

When he’s done, he puts the plate on his bedside table and burrows back into his blankets for another nap.

When he’s sleeping he doesn’t have to think about idiots doing stupid things like trying to kill themselves and then lying about it because they’re a stupid martyr.

Several hours later, he wakes when he hears Steve flushing the toilet. He listens, waiting until he hears Steve going into his own room.

He thinks he’s ready to continue their conversation. If Rogers is serious about not putting Bucky’s wellbeing ahead of his own anymore, he’s going to need some guarantees.

He throws off the blankets and lifts Diesel off the bed. He grabs his dinner plate and they make their way to the kitchen. Bucky takes care of his plate and brings Diesel out to the yard for a quick pee. Once they’re back inside, Diesel gets settled in his bed with stuffed monkey and Bucky heads to Steve’s bedroom.

He stops outside Steve’s partially open door. He can see Steve sitting up against the headboard, the e-reader in his hands. As soon as he hears Bucky stopping at the door, he looks up from the device.

“Hey, Buck.”

Bucky steps into the room and leans against the wall, keeping his distance. He doesn’t want Steve distracting him with any touching right now. This is way too important.

“Do you really understand why I’m scared?”

Steve nods. “I think so. I never—honestly, I never thought keeping this from you would have any consequences. I was only thinking about not hurting you. I didn’t realize what a mess it would make.”

“I can’t live like this, Rogers. I can’t spend every minute of the rest of my life worrying that you’re thinking of hurting yourself but you aren’t telling me because you’re worried I’d be upset. I’d rather be upset and help you deal with it than lose you. You get that? You can’t keep the small pain away from me because it’ll lead to a lot bigger pain later. You really gonna do that to me?”

Steve shakes his head frantically. “No. Buck, no. Never. I never—I never—I didn’t think this through all the way. I’m really sorry.”

Bucky shifts against the wall but doesn’t come any closer to the bed. “Then let’s make a deal. Right here, right now.”

Steve nods.

“I know you’d wanna tell me if things got bad. But I know that troll would try to stop you. Troll knows I’d help you and troll doesn’t like anything that’ll help you. So troll will try to convince you that telling me is a bad idea. That it’s not such a big deal and I don’t need to know. Or maybe he’ll say that I don’t really care and I wouldn’t wanna help you or that I think you deserve it. He’ll say all kinds of shit. You know that’ll probably happen, right?”

Another nod.

“So here’s the deal: If troll ever tells you anything about me—what I’m thinking, what I’m going to do, whatever—you tell him to go to hell and you come to me and tell me exactly what he said. I don’t care how terrible the things are that he said, I don’t care what time it is or what I’m doing—you come and tell me. I mean it— _anything_ he says about me—anything at all.”

Steve nods.

That’s not good enough. “Promise, Stevie.”

“I promise.”

“On your ma’s grave.”

Steve nods. “I promise on ma’s grave. If troll ever says anything about you, I’ll tell you right away.”

“Even if you think it’ll hurt me.”

To his surprise, Steve nods right away. “Even if I think it’ll hurt you. I’ll tell you. I promise.”

Bucky narrows his eyes at him, searching his face for any trace that Steve might be lying. But Rogers looks completely sincere.

Bucky also notices that his grip on the e-reader is very tight. He can tell Steve wants physical contact but he’s letting Bucky call the shots.

“Okay. Now I want a hug,” he says, stepping closer to the bed. Steve puts down the e-reader and pulls Bucky into his arms and onto the bed. Bucky smiles, his nose mashed into Steve’s shoulder.

“You’re gonna make us fall out of bed, Rogers.”

Steve twists sideways and lies down, pulling Bucky down with him. “I wouldn’t ever let you fall, Buck. Did that once—I ain’t doing it again.”

Bucky smiles, making himself comfortable against Steve’s chest. He yanks the blanket out from between them and Steve helps pull it over him.

Bucky buries his face in Steve’s neck. “I would have never escaped Hydra if you died that day, you realize that?”

A shudder runs through Steve.

“I know you didn’t know and it ain’t really fair, but you’re the one who didn’t make things fair today, so I’m giving you a taste of your own medicine.” He takes a deep breath. “You’re the one who broke the Hydra conditioning, not me. If you had died that day, I would have spent the rest of my life being Hydra’s prisoner. With the freezing, they could have kept me alive for hundreds of years. You see? No matter when you die, my life will be nothing but misery.”

Steve presses a kiss to Bucky’s neck. “I’m sorry, Buck.”

Bucky clutches him tighter. “Please don’t keep things like that from me again, Stevie. I gave you my heart for safe keeping, and making me fear that I’ll lose you ain’t taking good care my heart. I expect better.”

Steve swallows hard. “I promise, I’ll take care of it better,” he whispers into Bucky’s hair.

“I still don’t understand why you’re so okay with this.”

Steve frowns, pulling back enough to look at him. “I ain’t okay with it. I feel like a complete jerk for hurting you.”

“Not that. I mean the whole suicide thing. You talked about it like it was nothing.”

Steve’s quiet for a long moment. “I do think about it from time to time. Especially on my bad days. It’s weird—on the good days thinking about suicide is—is—surreal and crazy and something that’s—that’s impossible. Then I remember that I actually did try it and I think I must have been crazy back then. But then on my bad days, I start thinking that it was a normal, good decision.”

Bucky frowns in concern, but Steve shakes his head. “Don’t worry, I only tried that one time but the thoughts are still there sometimes. On the bad days, I’m back in that headspace where thinking about it ain’t such a crazy idea. It doesn’t feel like a great idea—not like it did back then—but not a crazy idea. But on the good days, it feels like a crazy idea. The whole thing is weird.”

“Weird? I think it’s awful. Scary and awful.”

Steve gives him a squeeze. “I spent a lot of time thinking about the whole situation, Buck. And you know, I came to a decision. I can’t go back and change what I did. Or what I tried to do. But I don’t wanna spend my days being upset that I almost died. I think it’s a lot better to spend my days being happy that I didn’t die. I’m telling you—it makes everything so much brighter and better.”

“I don’t know if I’ll get to that place, Stevie. Just thinking about you doing that to yourself makes my heart hurt.”

“I know. But maybe with time it’ll get better, Buck.”

*             *             *

Steve falls asleep pretty quickly after that, but Bucky can’t manage to turn his brain off. He realizes he’s probably still in shock from the whole situation.

But then he realizes it might not just be shock—another horrible thought creeps into his head. Steve has said he’d only tried that one time—but what if he’d come close? Their agreement had been to discuss future events, not past events.

He sits up and pokes Steve in the side.

“Steve!”

With an adorable snort, Steve jerks awake. “Hmm?”

“I know we agreed that you’d tell me if it ever gets that bad again, but that’s in the future. Has it happened after you…after the closet time?”

Steve rubs his eyes, trying to wake up properly. “Jesus, Buck. You really know how to have conversations.” Bucky pokes him again. Steve sighs and pushes himself up and leans against the headboard. “Has what happened?”

“Did things get that bad again?”

Steve’s immediate reaction is to shake his head, but then he stops and his gaze drops to the blankets. “I—Kinda? Once. Only once.”

“When? Was I here?” Bucky can’t imagine what he’ll do if Steve was in such a state and he just hadn’t noticed.

Steve bites his lip. “Not…really?”

“What?! What the hell does that mean? Was I frozen?”

“No. It was when you were staying with Sam. After we had that big fight and I hurt you.”

Bucky stares at him. “You tried to—”

“No! No, I just—it never got to that point. I thought about it. If—well—it never got to that point.”

“If what? If I hadn’t come back you’d have done it?” He feels like he’s going to throw up.

Steve sighs softly. “Buck—”

“Tell me the truth, Rogers!”

“Jesus, alright. Yes, yes, I probably would have. Back then you were the only thing I had in my life. Losing you again would have put me right back where I was when I first woke up. I wasn’t—I wasn’t—after you came back home, I went and talked to Sam and that’s when I realized I had to do things differently. Not just so I wouldn’t hurt you—physically I mean—but so I wouldn’t hurt myself. Back then I was doing it all just for you, but it turns out that all of it helped me too.”

“So—so if I hadn’t come back when I did, how long—I mean…how long before—what if I hadn’t—”

Steve makes an anguished noise and puts a hand against Bucky’s lips, stopping his flow of words. “Buck, don’t do that to yourself. Please! It wasn’t your responsibility to save me back then, just like it ain’t your responsibility to do it now. I had to do the work—me. Not you. You’re my support system and you’ll help me when I need it, but I had to learn how to enjoy life again and that wasn’t something you could do for me. You could help guide me—which you did and you still do everyday—but I’m the one who needs to shift into drive, not stay in neutral. It ain’t your job to do that for me. If I decide not to, it’s my fault, not yours.”

Steve gently presses his forehead against Bucky’s and squeezes the back of his neck. “I’m so much better now, Buck. So much better. I have a life that I love, I’m walking my own path, and I’m learning everyday how to make sure the depression isn’t leading me down another path. You want me to be honest? Alright—don’t let this be a blow to your ego or nothing, but if you left me today, I’m pretty confident I wouldn’t end up that low again.”

“You saying you wouldn’t miss me?” Bucky mumbles. He pinches Steve’s side.

Steve snorts, smacks his hand and pulls Bucky into his arms. “I’d miss the hell out of you, and there’d be a hole in my heart and my life that wouldn’t ever be whole again, but I’ve got enough good things going in the other parts of my life that I’d have the support I need to keep going. I wouldn’t be happy, but I’d keep going. That’s—Buck, you gotta know how huge that is.”

Bucky nods into his shirt. “It is,” he agrees. He tightens his grip on Steve, and Steve gently rocks them back and forth, trying to calm him.

“I promise, I’m much better now. I still have to be careful about troll and I’m still gonna have bad days, but I know what path I’m walking down, and whenever it gets a bit dark, I’ve got this handy little light that I can turn on and it’ll show me the way.”

Bucky smiles softly. “I ain’t little.”

Steve chuckles and presses a soft kiss to his head. “You’re my little guiding light, Barnes. Get used to it.”

Bucky sighs and makes himself more comfortable against Steve. “Punk.”

“Jerk.”


	2. Steve and Bucky Get Married

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve and Bucky have been referring to each other as ‘husbands’ for years, but have never actually gotten married. Steve decides to do something about that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Timeframe:** 2 years after Steve and Bucky move into their new house.
> 
>  **Applicable Tags:** Marriage, Fluff, Adorable Boys Being Adorable
> 
>  **Content:** If you want a quick refresher to re-familiarize yourself with the characters and plotlines in this chapter, skim over the epilogue (set '7 months later') in the last chapter of the original story (Part 1).

Steve circles the mall parking lot twice before he finds a spot that he feels brave enough to park in. The years of riding a motorcycle haven’t done much to improve his parking skills—especially if he’s parking the van.

Nearly every scratch on it is a result of Steve’s parking attempts, and while Bucky doesn’t seem to care, Steve cares.

So if he has to circle a parking lot half a dozen times until he finds a spot that’s big enough for him, he’ll do it.

He finally finds a spot and carefully pulls in, checking all of his mirrors as he goes. When he’s satisfied, he grabs the cloth shopping bags from the passenger seat, slides out of the van and shuts the door behind him. He presses the lock button on his key and listens for the chirp to make sure it’s locked.

While he’s stuffing his keys into his pocket, his phone lets out a cheerful ping. Steve digs it out of his jacket and checks it.

_More strabury jam.Plese._

Steve smiles. Seems like Alina wants more strawberry jam. He types out ‘okay’ and sends it back to her.

“Excuse me?”

Steve looks up and sees a woman rushing towards him.

“Yes?”

“Do you do hamsters?”

Steve struggles to contain his urge to laugh. This happens all the time, but it never gets any less funny. It’s even better if there are people around who don’t understand the context behind the question and assume Steve has very unusual bedroom habits.

Steve likes it even better when he can give his standard reply. “No, ma’am, but my husband does.”

It doesn’t matter that Buck’s had his company up and running for 3 years now. It’s still funny.

The woman looks confused. She points over her shoulder at the van. “Isn’t that your van?”

Okay, enough of the games. Time for Steve to do his part as Bucky’s unpaid part time receptionist, customer service specialist and sales person.

“It’s my husband’s company, ma’am. And yes, he does pet-sit for hamsters, or we offer boarding.”

“Oh! That’s great!” She hurries up to him and Steve digs out the stack of business cards he always carries in his jacket pocket. He slides out one of the pink shiny cards and hands it to the woman.

“That’s my husband’s email and his number, and the website link is there too.”

She gets that look on her face which people usually get when they’re watching adorable puppies frolicking around. “How long have you been married?”

That freezes Steve on the spot.

Nobody’s ever asked him that before.

On the one hand, he feels like he’s been married to Bucky his entire life, but technically they aren’t married.

Alina had started referring to them as husbands years ago—mostly as a joke—and Bucky and Steve had adopted it because they thought it was funny too. But then they realized it was actually handy—people made way less of a fuss if Bucky answered a call from the city about Steve’s job, or if Steve brought in the van for maintenance. Technically, the city shouldn’t be telling Bucky certain things about Steve’s job, and technically, the van is under Bucky’s name—but they both discovered that referring to each other as ‘husband’ in public had the magic effect of blowing past any red tape.

Neither of them had ever considered actually getting married.

Or if Bucky had, he’d never said anything about it.

But why haven’t they? They’ve been in love with each other for decades, they’ve lived together most of their lives, and their lives in DC are stable and routine.

_So why haven’t they?_

Was it just because neither of them have brought it up? Is it seriously such a silly reason?

Steve feels like an idiot.

“Do you know how much the boarding costs?”

Steve stares at the women. His mind is whirling along at a hundred miles an hour and for a second, he has no idea what she’s talking about.

Right. The hamster. Steve smiles politely. “Let me get you a brochure.” He heads back to the van, unlocks it and riffles through the stack of brochures stuck in the driver side door. He uses the time to get his mind focused. He’s not going to lose a new customer for Buck because he’s thinking about something that he’s had plenty of time to think about, but just hasn’t. He can focus for a few more minutes and answer this lady’s questions, then he can get back to that huge bombshell.

He bypasses the blue dog brochures, the red cat brochures, the yellow bird ones and grabs one of the green ‘small animal’ brochures.

He hands it to the lady. “All the information you need is in there.”

“Do you know if he has room starting on Thursday? We’ll be gone until Monday.”

“One second.” Steve pulls out his phone, pulls up the Bucky’s Buddies calendar and checks. They’ve got a bit of a full house right now—they’re boarding three cats, a parrot and two rabbits, along with Diesel and Suzy of course—but he knows Bucky doesn’t mind taking on small animals. They aren’t hard to look after and don’t take up much room.

Bucky’s got a full schedule on Thursday, and Steve’s working a day shift, but Latwon has an open slot.

“We can take the hamster in on Thursday, that’s not a problem.”

“Do you do home pick-ups?”

Probably Alina would be willing to drive Latwon to pick up the hamster. Latwon's been saving up for a car, but he’s not quite there yet. He doesn’t know that Steve and Bucky are going to give him the leftover cash he needs on his birthday, which is a month away. But right now, Alina would need to drive him to pick up the hamster. “We sure do. There’s an extra fee for that—it’s all in the brochure.”

That extra fee will go directly to Alina. Latwon automatically gets a bonus if he does anything that’s scheduled last minute

She seems thrilled with that. “Oh, that all sounds great!”

Steve smiles. “I’m glad. But I still need you to call my husband to give him all the details and he’ll tell you exactly what he needs you to prepare for Thursday.”

She’s skimming through the brochure. “This is fantastic. Do you do cats?”

So Steve pulls out a red brochure and hands it to her.

She grins at him. “Well, this is all great! Thank you so much! I’ll give your husband a call.”

“Thank you, ma’am. We look forward to working with you.”

Your husband.

Your.

_Husband._

Now that he’s focused on that word, he realizes how much weight there is to it.

They’ve been treating it like a label on a can—something convenient, kinda funny, but disposable.

But it’s not, is it?

There’s a lot more to that word.

Technically they’ve been living as a married couple for decades. They’re faithful to each other, they care about each other, they support each other, and they work hard to keep their relationship strong and stable.

They’ve done everything except make it legal.

And suddenly that’s bothering Steve.

He wants the government to officially acknowledge that he’s Bucky’s husband. That he loves him, supports him and wants to be with him for the rest of his life.

He’s about to get back into the van and drive home so he can talk to Bucky about this right away—but then reality sets in. He needs to buy groceries (including Alina’s strawberry jam), and Bucky’s doing rounds with Steve’s motorcycle right now anyway. He won’t be home for at least another hour.

Steve looks at his watch. If he hurries, he can get home right when Bucky gets home, and they can talk about this before Steve has to go to work.

He likes that plan. Stuffing his keys into his pocket, he tightens his grip on the shopping bags and breaks into a run, heading towards the grocery store.

*             *             *

When Steve pulls in to the garage, the motorcycle isn’t there yet.

Damn it.

He brings the groceries inside, puts away their things and jogs down the stairs to Alina’s suite. He knocks on the door. “It’s me. I got your groceries.”

He hears Alina unlock the door and she pulls it open. “Oh, good! You remember my—”

Steve smiles. “Strawberry jam? Of course. I wouldn’t have come home without it.”

She smiles happily, takes the bag from him and heads into her kitchen area. Steve stares after her. He wants to tell her that he’s going to ask Bucky to marry him when he gets home—but he stops himself.

He wants to tell her after Bucky’s said yes and then they can both tell her.

Alina asks him questions about the store and Steve manages to keep up with the conversation enough to tell her about the hamster lady. Alina agrees to drive Latwon to pick up the hamster—which is great, but Steve is barely focusing on the conversation.

When he hears the roar of a motorcycle engine above his head, he wraps up the conversation and hurries back upstairs. When he rounds the corner to the garage, he nearly trips over Diesel and Suzy, who have come to say hello.

“Shit! Hi guys. Hi, you two!” He rubs Suzy’s head and scratches Diesel under his chin. Both dogs are happily snuffling and shoving their noses into his pants, their tails slowly wagging.

“You guys wanna come see Buck with me? I gotta ask him a very important question.”

All three of them make their way to the garage and Steve shoves open the door, letting the two dogs make their way out ahead of him.

Bucky’s just powering down the motorcycle, putting down the kickstand and taking the keys out of the engine. He swings his leg over and shoves up the visor of the helmet. He sees the dogs before he sees Steve.

“Well, this is a nice surprise! Who let you guys into the garage, huh?”

He bends over and both dogs lumber over to him, tails and bums wagging and noses digging into Bucky’s crotch. He lets out a delighted laugh and pets both of them, one hand on each dog.

Steve leans against the doorframe, watching him.

Jesus, he loves this man. He’s loved him most of his life, but instead of growing dimmer over time, that love seems to grow brighter and stronger every single day.

Finally Bucky glances up and sees Steve. “Oh, good. I was thinking I was gonna have to yell at Latwon for leaving the door open again.”

Steve shakes his head. “He ain’t here.”

“Oh, right! He ain’t working today. It’s one those days, Rogers. I barely know what day it is.”

Steve walks up to him and holds out his hand so he can take Bucky’s backpack while he takes off the helmet and shuffles over to the wall to hang it up, while trying not to trample either of the two large dogs following him.

“Buck, I wanna ask you something.”

“Jesus, Suzy. It’s gonna look like I wet myself if you keep digging your nose in there. What you wanna ask me?”

The words catch in Steve’s throat. It’s stupid because he already knows what Bucky will say, but the weight of the moment is huge.

“Do—Buck, do—how about marrying me? You wanna?”

That’s—not how Steve had wanted that question to go…but that’s how it had come out.

Bucky—the jerk—is still more focused on Suzy and Diesel. He pats Diesel’s side and tries to dig Suzy’s nose out of his crotch. “What, like today? You gotta go to work in like an hour.”

Steve lets out a sigh. He feels like he’s about to cry, but he also can’t keep the smile off his face. He’s got a million emotions zipping around in his chest. “No, it don’t have to be today. Jesus. Any day. I just wanna know if you wanna.”

Bucky shots him a smirk. “I already married you when you were 18 when we shacked up together for the first time, just the two of us. That bed was our marriage bed, wasn’t it?”

Steve smiles. “So you’re counting that?”

“You bet I’m counting that. We consummated our marriage a lot in that bed, didn’t we?”

Steve laughs, but forces himself to stay focused. “How about—how about doing it for real?”

Bucky abruptly stops petting both dogs. The dogs are still snuffling around him, making Bucky sway as they bump into him, but his attention is focused on Steve now.

“You—you seriously think you gotta ask me? Punk!” A huge smile spreads over Bucky’s face. “What kind of a fool question is that? Of course I wanna marry you for real! You pick the day and the place and tell me what time I gotta be there, and I’ll be there.”

Steve grins. He feels tears brimming his eyes. They’re not sad tears, that’s for sure.

“You remember the first time we got married? Not when we moved in together after ma died—technically that would have been the second time—but the first time?”

Bucky frowns. He carefully steps between the dogs so he can get closer to Steve. He wraps his arms around Steve’s waist and pulls him close, resting their foreheads together. “I don’t remember that. Tell me.”

“We must have been around six or seven. We were playing Wedding with a bunch of other kids. All the girls and boys would pair up with each other and get married at this pile of bricks that was the altar. Some boy—I don’t remember his name—he wanted to marry Shirley.”

Bucky frowns. “Shirley…with the curly red hair?”

“No, that was Cindy. Shirley moved away a couple of years later so I ain’t surprised you don’t remember. Anyway, nobody ever wanted to marry me when we played Wedding—”

Bucky makes a displeased growling sound.

“—but everybody wanted to marry you. You’d be a gentleman and you’d marry all the girls who wanted to marry you, one by one. I’d get so bored, sitting there on the curb, watching you walk them down the aisle one by one. But on this day, Shirley wanted to marry you, but you said you couldn’t because you were going to marry me.”

Bucky chuckles. “I always had great taste, didn’t I? How did that turn out?”

“Everybody told you, you couldn’t do that. Boys had to marry girls. But you grabbed my hand, dragged me over to the pile of bricks, kissed my cheek and then said we were married and nobody could do anything about it. I got mad because I hadn’t kissed your cheek yet, so you bent down and I kissed your cheek, and then I said we were really married. All the kids made a huge fuss. Shirley ran home, crying and her ma ended up going to see your ma and it turned into a bit of a mess. You didn’t care who yelled at you. You said you’d decided to marry me, and that was that.”

Bucky’s smiling and he kisses Steve’s cheek. “I knew what a catch you were from the first day I met you, Steve Rogers.”

Steve smiles, feeling tears running down his cheeks. Bucky gently wipes the tears away and turns Steve’s chin so he can kiss him properly. The kiss is soft and gentle.

“I’d love to marry you, Stevie, for the third time. This time, we’ll have an actual paper that nobody can argue about. All the Shirleys can run home crying about it, but it’ll be official and it’ll be forever.”

Steve tightens his arms around him. “I love you, Buck.”

“I love you too,” Bucky whispers against his lips, then he kisses Steve some more. Diesel and Suzy swirl around their legs, making happy noises and thumping Bucky and Steve’s legs with their wagging tails.

*             *             *

It takes them a few weeks to get everything organized. The biggest problem is finding a date that works for everybody.

Sam is Steve’s best man, and Alina is Bucky’s. Natasha surprises them all by getting her officiant licence online, so she can conduct their ceremony.

They go to city hall to fill out the paperwork and get their marriage licence signed, and they decide to have a small ceremony in their backyard.

When they start putting together the guest list, they’re both surprised at the number of people they’ve gotten to know since they’d settled in DC.

Bucky invites Latwon, his daughter and his mother, as well as some his regular clients like Ed Baker and Ajay Sharma, all of whom are welcome to bring their dogs. Steve invites Yoo-Ra, Ahmed and many of the other first responders he works with. They also invite Bucky’s former therapist, Jemisha, and Mandeep, who they still visit every six months for dental check-ups.

They’ve never been able to truly move past their Depression era roots, so they keep it a casual affair. Fancy clothes are expensive and they don’t want the people they care about having to spend money on things like that. Everybody wears whatever they want, and even the two grooms show up in their favourite jeans. Bucky’s biggest concern is his hair. He wants to wear it loose so it’ll look nice, but he doesn’t want the wind messing it up. Natasha finally solves the crisis by helping him put it up in a nice bun—nicer than anything Steve’s ever been able to do. She trims all the ends to make them neat and even and sprays way too much hair spray on it. But after a whole morning spent outside in the sun and wind, Bucky’s hair is still neat and perfect, so he’s thrilled with it.

Instead of presents, everybody is asked to bring something to eat or drink, and Bucky carefully keeps track of who is bringing what, so he can make sure that the people with less money to spare—like Latwon’s family—can be in charge of bringing paper plates and napkins.

They open the garage door early in the morning and tell everybody to show up whenever they want. People drift in and out of the house, cooking in the kitchen, spending time with the different boarding animals in the boarding room, or out in the backyard.

Bucky is having such a great time surrounded by people and animals, and eating lots of good food, that he almost forgets why everybody’s here in the first place.

But then Alina comes outside and tells everybody to start setting up the chairs on the lawn so they can get the ceremony underway.

His eyes automatically skim through the crowd, looking for Steve. He finally sees him, lugging two of their dining table chairs outside, and hollering for Sam to grab the other two.

Steve puts the chairs down on the lawn and jumps back onto the patio deck. He must feel Bucky’s eyes on him because he looks through the crowd until he sees him.

As soon as their eyes meet, they both smile.

Steve has a bit of a worried frown on his face and he mouths ‘okay?’. Bucky smiles and nods.

Yes, he’s okay. He’s more than okay.

They’d worked with Natasha to adjust the wording of some of the vows. She’d offered to let them say their own vows, but they both thought it would be better if she were more involved.

“The last thing I wanna do is get tongue tied and make an idiot outta myself,” Bucky had mumbled, with Steve nodding in agreement.

Their vows are simple and sweet, which describes their relationship perfectly.

“Do you, Steve, take Bucky to be your lawfully wedded husband?”

“I do.”

“Do you promise to love, honor, cherish and support him until the end of the line?”

“I absolutely do.”

“Do you, Bucky, take Steve to be your lawfully wedded husband?”

“You know I do.”

“Do you promise to love, honor, cherish and support him until the end of the line?”

“I always have and I always will.”

They slide the rings on each other’s fingers and tangle their hands together as soon as the rings are in place. Bucky can feel the ring on Steve’s finger—and isn’t that the coolest thing he’s ever felt?

Without needing to be prompted by Natasha, Steve runs his free hand up to Bucky’s face and pulls him in for a kiss.

The crowd around them erupts into clapping, cheers and hollers, making them both laugh into the kiss.

“We’re friends with a rowdy bunch, ain’t we?” Bucky laughs against Steve’s lips.

“It’s your bad influence, Barnes. Ain’t got nothing to do with me,” Steve says.

Bucky untangles their left hands so he can gently smack Steve on the butt. “Quit sassing me, and get back to kissing me.”

Steve laughs, but doesn’t need any more convincing to go back to kissing him. “Third time’s the charm, Buck,” Steve says.

Bucky smiles. “And this time it’s forever.”

“You bet.”


End file.
